The Place Time Forgot 10/03/04 | by TrickyMatt

Last Saturday wasn’t the first time I had visited Gillingham. During the 2000/01 season I had the pleasure of witnessing a comfortable 3-1 victory on a Sunday afternoon with three goals from Jack Lester (remember him!). However, what stuck with me was the setting for this victory, a place time forgot.

The narrow wins against Bradford and Wimbledon had all Forest fans reaching for the Teletext page 325 once more and, as always, I genuinely thought three wins in a row was a distinct possibility. So it was off to Gillingham for my second visit to Kent’s finest. The boarded up pubs, shops and houses befit wartime. Perhaps more sensibly, they resemble the stereotypical Northern town bypassed of all investment and interest. God it’s depressing.

My previous visit gave me the opportunity to sample the forgotten art of terracing. This time the terracing was gone, only to be replaced by the most unstable, rickety, temporary stand. Despite its apparent deficiencies, you never felt out of place with the rest of this stadium which is more apt for Division Three rather than the second rung of English football.

If you treat Nottingham Forest and Gillingham as separate businesses (and let's face it, that’s what football clubs are) the fact that we are competing in the same division is remarkable. Comparing the investment down the years in the stadiums, playing staff, etc, something has gone very wrong at Forest and this game just went to highlight the dire situation. The fact that I got excited at beating Bradford and Wimbledon displays my, and the majority's, sheer desperation.

Turning up to a game late is something I have done before. My pinnacle came during the 1993/4 season for the home game with Barnsley. A full 60 minutes had elapsed before I took my seat. Within five minutes, Gerry Taggert had equalised for Barnsley, before David Phillips went up the other end to notch from 25 yards to pick up the three points. Anyway, this time, I missed just the first 15, despite a lengthy run from the car to the turnstiles. Why did I bother?

Forest were absolute rubbish. Confirming my early fears, Andy Impey was an impediment to the team - it was like playing with 10 players, he was that bad. In fact he pretty much did nothing for the 75 minutes I was there. Alan Rogers wasn’t much better. He is terribly unfit, never touch tight in the first half. A slight improvement in the second saves him from an Andy Impey appraisal. I could hardly see the sending-off, but Rogers has never been mild-mannered so nothing surprises me.

Nicky Barmby was looking old in midfield, not much hope here - his goal masqueraded the fact that he was barely in the game. He had a good chance prior to the goal, but dragged a shot wide in desperate fashion from the edge of the box with only the keeper to beat. Marlon King, on his old stamping ground, had a shocker and was marked closely all afternoon while the only positives came from Wes Morgan, and Gareth Taylor, who looked a threat from crossed balls (obviously!), set up our goal and was unlucky to have a goal ruled out for off-side.

With regards the pitch, anyone who has had the pleasure (!) will know Priestfield is the home of a pitch closer in size to a crown green bowls pitch rather than the old Wembley field. Gillingham clearly knew how to play it. Anywhere inside Forest’s half saw the ball being pumped diagonally into the box for the two massive strikers to scrap over. If the Gillingham full backs got the ball, they would launch it down the line, press the play and force Forest to concede throw-ins in the Forest half, thereby giving the home team the chance to send more scuds into Barry Roche’s vicinity.

I am left very down by this performance - it was gutless to be honest and the team that wanted to win more, did win. I thought Kinnear would at least give us spirit. I guess it is down to how we react to this. If one thing's for sure, the Red Army will be there to witness and if our lads had the commitment of the fans, then we would be looking at the top six rather than the bottom six. I better go and cheer myself up!